Diffused love
by Suchi Govindarajan
:::::::::
To grow up without cold seasons is
to find an obsession dusted with snow
For too long, my sun kept drawing shadows
But in my dreams, I would see tree trunks
branching into fragile hands
my bare prayer held up against the white
I imagined the weighted blanket of it
how it might quieten my heart's chaos
make my longings more calm and austere
In days when sunspots flecked my lashes
and the sand felt blister-rough as though it
would fuse into glass and catch the glare,
I dreamt of becoming a migrant bird
compelled to find routes away from the sun
I would follow every winter wind and current
And as calendars faded to blue-ink endings,
I would fly to lands full of diffused light
Like the Earth, I too would complete my orbit
pulled by a strange and foreign love.
by Suchi Govindarajan
:::::::::
To grow up without cold seasons is
to find an obsession dusted with snow
For too long, my sun kept drawing shadows
But in my dreams, I would see tree trunks
branching into fragile hands
my bare prayer held up against the white
I imagined the weighted blanket of it
how it might quieten my heart's chaos
make my longings more calm and austere
In days when sunspots flecked my lashes
and the sand felt blister-rough as though it
would fuse into glass and catch the glare,
I dreamt of becoming a migrant bird
compelled to find routes away from the sun
I would follow every winter wind and current
And as calendars faded to blue-ink endings,
I would fly to lands full of diffused light
Like the Earth, I too would complete my orbit
pulled by a strange and foreign love.
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